Counting Heads
by PinkMenace1227
Summary: Private River "Luckster" Lockwood is a lucky marine and he's stationed in New Alexandria, on reach. But will he be lucky enough to survive the Covenant armada that threatens the planet?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter OneEntry One

_Master Sergeant McAllister is ordering our entire unit to write reports about everything we do. I don't know why but it's the Sarge's orders. I don't think its suppose to be a diary or a journal or a log... which ever it is, I'm doubting that this will get anywhere. This war is keeping us all busy, does the Sarge think we'll have time to sit down and write a year worth of "diary entries"? I hope not and if he does, he's got to be crazy. I have hardly enough time to play a round of cars rather much write senseless crap in a journal._

_That's another thing, this is a _real _journal. Paper and spiral, and I'm writing with a real, ink pen. Low tech, if you ask me. This is the year 2552... we should have hover cars by now._

_But we don't._

_Instead, we got a war. There isn't much I can say about it, it's suicidal, all of it. We're against all odds and waging an impossible war. But of course, my voice ain't gonna be heard. I'm just a grunt; Private First Class River Lockwood. There are few opinions heard now-a-days. Sarge is a blabber mouth, so his voice is heard although it may not be _wanted. _Wait, what if he reads these? Oh well, I'll probably be dead by the time he does. He runs his mouth, telling every soul who has an ear that he's got the best unit on Reach. Yeah... Let's see how long he keeps up that shit._

_We're not a bad, unit, but we're not God's gift to man-kind either. The Spartans are, I heard. If I were the Sarge, I'd be a bit more modest._

_But, like I said, I'm a grunt. No one is gonna listen to what I have to say. _

_Now for the "report" part of this diary... we're getting new recruits in today. There are only three newbies showing up and there are five units in New Alexandria. one of the four newbies are coming to our unit._

_Lucky us. _

_I can't say I'm excited and I don't think the rest of my unit is that hipped up about it either. _

I flipped the matte, grey spiral journal closed and studied its cover. The words: _Lockwood, River_ was etched in jet-black lettering at the bottom. I stuffed it into my pack as the door to the barracks swung open. I turned and looming in the doorway was a beefy, heavily-built marine whose nickname was the only think I knew about him. I didn't know his first name or last name, though his rank didn't seem to be coming to my mind at the moment... only his nickname stood out in my mind:

Bull-balls.

I'm not too sure on how the Sarge "bestowed" Bull-balls with a nickname like that. He probably did something heroic because a nickname like his seems like someone who would have steel balls.

He's the Sarge's dog. He's as loyal and as annoying as a dog, too. Where ever Sarge was, that's where Bull-balls was and he yaps and barks like one too, repeating everything Sarge says. He's the equivalent of a teacher's pet or someone's shadow. He has the intelligent level of a dog as well. Bull-balls'll get himself killed one day because he would be playing a game of fetch with his "master" but instead of a ball, it'll be a grenade.

Bull-balls had a plump face but mature features. He had powerful muscles and reached a towering six foot seven inches height to my six foot one. His head was shaven bald and he could probably lift twice his own weight. I envied him but I didn't want to be him either.

"Newbie's are here, Luckster," He said with a rather unnecessarily loud voice.

I flinched slightly and replied with false enthusiasm, "Yippee,"

Luckster. Yeah, that was my nickname all right. The Sarge gave it to me because he thinks I'm lucky. My unit agrees with him – naturally – and so the name just stuck. I don't think I'm so lucky. One of the reasons why Sarge thinks I'm lucky is because I'm the only marine that's survived in Sarge's unit the longest, which came out to about a year. Since the war hadn't reached Reach yet – as funny as it sounded – I've only seen two men die. I hadn't been in any firearms engagements recently and the majority of the men I've been stationed with we've lost were transferred to different units.

I followed Bull-balls down the hallway, hoping he knew where he was going but I didn't know. I guessed the hangar bay. Bull-balls and I rarely talked so I decided to be friendly.

"So, you excited?" I asked.

"I always am. You have to be more specific," Bull-balls answered, glancing down at me subtly.

"About the newbies,"

He shook his head, "No. Why should I be? They'll either be dead or gone by next week,"

I nodded, silently agreeing with him. He was right, they wouldn't be here long; gone, not dead.

Bull-balls peeked down at me, as if I were crazy and hadn't agreed with him, "Are you?" He returned.

"No, no..." I shook my head.

Maybe I was slightly excited but not enough to be completely convinced. It was a batch of new people, no big deal.

We arrived in the base's hangar, like I had suspected. Marines and Engineers scattered the bay, working and browsing different equipment or vehicles. The large mouth of the bay's doors at the opposite end of where we had entered, gushed in the cool, oceanic air, altering the temperature to humid and moderate. This base's location was a scenic vista near the shore.

A Pelican dropship dominated the bay. It had a bulky, olive-green hull and it looked brand new... or precisely cleaned and preserved.

Sarge McAllister was pacing back and forth on the Pelican's ramp, his poker face on. The Sarge was in his late forties and had a weathered skin tone. Scars sprawled across his cheeks and if given the time, he would tell you the heroic story behind every scar. I reckoned he would have forgotten by now but he didn't. Sarge also had an enlarged ego and it was as tough as steel. I don't think he once ever had his ego get behind him. It was always ahead of him. Not to mention that his reputation meant a lot to him as well. Another thing was that he reminded you of things you didn't want remembrance of. For me, it was my first drill with live rounds during my advanced training. The Sarge had been strolling around and decided to watch. I managed to take down all of my targets without firing a single round. It wasn't some ballet act, though. That's what got me into his unit. He had a good laugh as I nearly got my ass shot up with live rounds. This was another reason Sarge said I was lucky.

That was all you needed to know about Sarge. And he was the best damn shot I've ever seen, that too.

Three men descended from the shadow of the Pelican's bay and down the ramp. Sarge pointed at the two who looked almost identical and then to our sister unit's Sarge, who I recognized. They joined him and Sarge McAllister's gaze rested onto the lone recruit remaining.

Bull-balls and I made our way to the Sarge and as we came within hearing distance, we heard, "... Alexandria, recruit, on the magnificent colony of Reach. This place isn't like your petty civilian life you once knew – hopefully you've all ready realized this... From this point on, you are under _my _command and I can do anything I wanna do. So... as long as you don't prove to be a shithead, you'll stay in this unit until you die. And if you _do _prove to be a shithead..." He just shook his head, "I don't wanna explain what happens after that... Ah, here's my star-student," Sarge threw a strong arm around Bull-balls's shoulders. "This is Corporal Bullum, or Bull-balls, or whatever comes out, like dickhead or fucktard," He laughed. Bull-balls didn't.

"And _that_," Sarge threw a finger at me, "is Private Lockwood. He's a good kid and a lucky son of a bitch. Luckster's a name you could call him or Dandelion. Now, if you have any questions, ask the private,"

_Great... _

"And he'll take to you the barracks. I need to speak with the Corporal alone, dismissed,"

The recruit trudged past the Sarge as he pulled Bull-balls to the side. I wondered what it was the Sarge what to say. Probably wanted him to represent him somehow... or play fetch.

The recruit trailed along side me as I led him to the barracks. We walked in silence before he broke it with, "The Sarge likes his nicknames," The recruit reckoned. This was when I got a good look at him. He was about my height, had scraggly, dirty blonde hair and predominant cheekbones. And he had the brightest, damn, green eyes I'd ever seen.

"Yeah... he does," I replied softly, "he normally gives a nickname to everyone within a couple of day,"

"Really?" The recruit truly sounded interested. _That's a first, _I thought.

"Yeah,"

"What's yours?"

"Luckster,"

The recruit laughed, "Why? 'Cause you're lucky? Just a wild guess,"

I nodded, grinning a bit, "Sarge says. I don't think so though,"

"How come?" I was starting to like this guy. I didn't know his name but I could have a decent conversation with him and it had some type of flowage to it. I felt some sort of a connection with him. I couldn't be sure what it meant yet but maybe in time I'd figure it out. Eventually.

"Dunno, just don't believe in superstitions," I told him simply with a slight shrug.

We entered the barracks and I advised him to stay away from one bunk in particular; Tarzan and Bull-balls's bunk. Corporal Andy "Tarzan" Finch was one of Bull-balls's close friends. They were practically brothers and did almost everything together. They spent most of their time in the work-out gyms showing off, picking fights, and hitting on the women.

There was a free cot above mine and below Private First Class Hai "Dimples" Chen, a marine of heavy Asian heritage and a pretty good friend of mine. He was the only one of the unit I could talk to casually with. He actually listened.

The recruit wanted the one above mine and as he was hefting his pack onto his new cot, I made a point to ask, "What's your name, again?"

"Lance Corporal Kent Calwell," The recruit answered proudly with a grin, "And you're Private Lockwood, right?"

"River 'Luckster' Lockwood. You can call me Luckster. Everyone calls me that," I insisted.

Kent nodded in affirmation and I suggested we go to the Mess Hall for dinner.

Maybe having a new member to the unit ain't gonna be so bad after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Mess Hall food ain't so bad, besides at least it's edible. The staff got a new cook, I could tell. The meals were slightly better in taste, like it had effort put into it. I appreciated it but it still had the vague taint of plastic to it. That, I realized, would always be there until the base's officers hired a gourmet chef. But that ain't gonna happen.

I sat at my usual table, second to last of eight tables in the Hall with Kent across from me. We both had Styrofoam trays in front of us, with what was what I _thought _a sad excuse for meatloaf and mashed potatoes. It was better than nothing.

"Where'd you come from?" I asked, licking the chunky mashed potatoes from my plastic spoon.

"_Here_. I'm fresh from the Academy," Kent replied leisurely, eyeing his meatloaf warily.

"_Really_?" That was a real shocker. "You don't act like you're fresh from... Thought you were transferred,"

Kent swallowed a mouthful of meat and smiled, "Thanks,"

Sarge didn't mention that they were real, _real _newbies. Apparently so.

Dimples appeared almost out of nowhere and sat beside Kent, setting down his tray.

"Hey Dimples," I greeted, prodding my meatloaf, deciding if I should dare try it or not...

Dimples gave a small wave and smiled, his noticeable dimples showing. Dimples always smiled, typically, no matter what, and he had dimples that stood out so much, the Sarge decided to give him that nickname. He was a happy, yet quiet fellow that kept to himself. I liked him for it.

Kent turned to Dimples and offered a hand for shaking, "I'm Corporal Kent Calwell," He introduced.

Dimples shook his hand gladly, "Private Hai Chen, you can call me Dimples,"

Kent nodded and went back to his tray.

"Hope you like our unit," Dimples mumbled, adding quietly.

"Thanks," Kent returned.

"A pleasure," He leaned forward, over the table, eyes locked on me and whispered, "Bull-balls is in some deep shit, Luckster,"

That snagged my attention. I leaned in and listened intently, "What happened?"

"You know how he's been having a lot of affairs with women lately?"

"Ooh, I see where this is leading too... " He probably got someone pregnant. Great going, Bull-balls, ruin Sarge's reputation with having not only the most bullest balls but also having the most uncontrollable dick, why don't you? I made the connection about what the Sarge wanted to talk "privately" to Bull-balls about.

Dimples nodded, "Yeah, he got a woman pregnant. And not just any woman... and ODST,"

My face flushed and my throat parched. "_What_?" I choked out, eyes widened with horror.

"Damn!" Kent cried and then laughed quietly, his faces buried in his palms. He shook his head, continuing to laugh, not from humor but pity.

"Even the newbie knows that's dealing with shit," Dimples pointed out.

Right, it _was _dealing with shit. ODSTs were bad-ass, emotionless soldiers. Their faces hidden behind glossy visors and encased in ebony, ballistic armor... They were independent and trouble – and "off limits" according to Sarge. I'm not sure why I'm so shocked. I expected this to happen sooner or later. Bull-balls was a dog so, therefore had the IQ level of one, who only knows how to trail his master's ass, play fetch, and mate with any given, good-looking female willing to spare her time.

"The Sarge ain't too happy, so I'd stay outta his way, and Bull-balls too..." He paused, thinking a moment before adding, "And Tarzan... It could be Tarzan's kid,"

"_Could _be?" I gawked. "It _could _be either ones?"

"You know that Tarzan and Bull-balls do _everything _together! Sarge said it could be either one because they both 'associated' with the ODST, either one at a time or together. But as of now, Bull-balls is getting the shit neck-deep," Dimples explained lowly.

"But an ODST? Jesus, what's the poor chick's name?" I inquired, feeling pity for her.

"Gunnery Sergeant Larissa Grossman," Dimples answered. I marveled at Dimples connections. He got in on all of the news and normally passed it onto me. I was the last one to know on most occasions.

"_Damn!_ Poor, Gunny," Kent murmured. "Do you think he'll get kicked out for it?"

Dimples only shrugged so I answered, "Probably not. Though, Sarge might rip him a new asshole..."

"I can't say I'm surprised," Dimples shook his head, staring at his tray, lost in thought.

"Neither am I," I agreed, pushing my tray aside, concluding that I wasn't going to take my chances with the meatloaf. "this'll look great on the Sarge's rep: Star Student Has Uncontrollable Dick,"

Kent chuckled, "Never mind the Sarge, what's Gunny gonna do?"

"Kick his ass back to Earth?" I offered.

"If he's lucky... Probably somewhere around ripping his dick off and feeding it to him. That sounds about right,"

I laughed.

"Not to mention that chick's entire ODST unit is being transferred here for a couple of days," Dimples mentioned darkly. That ceased my laughter... "That's why the Sarge is all edgy,"

"You're kidding me! _Fuck! _It's a bad day to be Bull-balls," I couldn't believe it... This was going from shitty to fucked-up. This ain't gonna be a good, next couple of days. I had to watch out and pay attention to who I talked to... Great, that's an ass-load, Bull-balls.

Dimples hadn't touched much of his dinner and insisted that he go and talk to the Sarge. The Sarge and Dimples had a good, gab-and-listen relationship. It was the Sarge's therapy, so the speak. They got together and talked on occasions to talk about the Sarge's problem and Dimples would give him advice.

So, this left me and Kent chatting. I found out that he had a very outgoing, _alive _personality and a good sense of humor. I'm surprised he didn't become a stand-up comedian. He kept my attention. He humored me with a story about the other new recruits that had arrived earlier.

"They're identical twins," He said, "Duke and Luke. One of them managed to keep his real name and the other, eh, wasn't so fortunate. It was Duke because I mean, Christ, his name all ready sounds intimidating. Like a huge, friggin' beast that'll rip off your head with his bare teeth. He is ODST-potential-bad-ass and can hit a moving target at any range with his eyes shut. He was born cradling' a rifle, born natural...

"Luke earned the name Puke, which evidently rhythms with his read name. Now a nickname like that sounds offensive but he accepts it! Duke and Puke are two totally different people and have two different personalities. If it weren't for the looks, you would have never known they were related. Puke is a loner and Duke is always the center of attention by nature and gets a lot of praise. Puke sits in the corner, watching everyone like a retard.

"Here's why he got the name Puke; every single friggin' time we'd do a drill, no matter how easy or laborious it is, he's puke! It's not even realistic anymore, it gets that consistent! I'm wonderin' how that kid hasn't puked out his guts yet... or died of dehydration? I mean, our training Sarge said that he could see a medic or something. He did and the medic said he just had an extremely weak stomach and had to 'consume liquid' after he puked. If I counted how many times he puked a week, it'd equal about... thirty times. I shit you not, this kid has a problem. No... no, what's nasty about it, is that he's not all silent about it either, he just dry-heaves most of the time and makes as much noise as he possibly can. At first, it was the most damned nastiest thing I'd heard but now, eh, it doesn't affect me..."

I finished up laughing and caught up my breath. This guy was hilarious, I don't know about you. But I haven't laughed this hard in a while. It felt pretty good.

We decided to head back to the barracks It had been a relatively lazy day and I seldom got those days. I cherished today and actually enjoyed myself. I got to meet someone who can actually make me laugh and I heard some shitty news about a bastard who deserved it... Though a bunch of possibly-pissed-off ODSTs would be arriving and could be a problem.

Once we arrived, I searched my pack for my "diary" and pen.

On the cot above me, Kent, seeing my struggle, peeked over and asked, "What'cha looking for?"

"Nothing," I told him quickly, continuing to dig.

"Of course, and you're just shoving your hand down into that abyss for no reason... Just for the sheer pleasure of shoving your hand somewhere," He whispered down to me sarcastically.

"I'm looking for a report log, that's all," I lied, catching myself before I said "diary". My hand finally found its prize and I yanked it free.

_Christ, I never knew I had so much crap in here... _I thought

I flipped the journal open to a blank sheet and began my second "diary entry".

_**Entry Two**_

_I'm regretting everything I put in that last entry. The new recruit is great, much better than I expected. His name is Lance Corporal Kent Calwell He's fresh out and has a good sense of humor. Truly, that's enough for me. He doesn't call me a dickhead or a pussy, which, lately, has been all I'm getting. I don't want him to be transferred like I said in the last entry. That would suck. Dimples is okay, but I think I've finally found someone who I can call a friend. He's seems to be fitting in nicely. I have the feeling that I've known him for a while, which wasn't true. _

_I think I should give him a nickname. It'll save Sarge some breath and brain activity since he's been giving so much of it recently. I'll explain that in a second. I think the nickname Livly fits. He has an alive personality... I think it'll do. Kent "Livly" Calwell. It has a nice ring to it. _

_Well, Bull-balls has really gotten himself into some shit this time. He's got a woman pregnant and not just any woman. An ODST. Smooth, right? I think his dick was thinking faster than his brain; that's usually how it is. The Sarge is ticked off because it'll ruin his rep and to make it even better, the gal's unit is being transferred here in New Alexandria for a couple of days. _

_Those'll be the best damn days of my life. I hope my sarcasm is traveling through into these words because a majority of that last paragraph was sarcasm. Oh well, I've pointed it out so it should be good. _

_I'm not too happy about meeting the gal's unit. They'll probably be just as pissed off as Sarge. I'm not... afraid of ODSTs, they're just so goddamn intimidating. It doesn't make it assuring that their visors hide their face so you can't tell if their going to rip off your head or not. _

_That's all I'm concerned about, ripping off my head. I like where my head is, thank you very much. _

_There really isn't much I can say about today. It was a simple day. Oh, yeah, they got a new cook in the Mess Hall, yeah, that makes life ever-more dandy than it all ready is. It could be worse, the Covenant could suddenly appear outta friggin' nowhere and glass this entire planet. Nah, Reach is too secure for that. _

_Well, I hope I don't jinx myself. That would really, really suck and it wouldn't be a good day to be a human, would it? _


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

It was very early the next morning and I still hadn't fallen asleep. Something was keeping me up. It could have been my thoughts, my mind, keeping me aware and alert. For what? No ones going to knock me out cold in my sleep. It had been at least two hours since Kent – Livly had fallen asleep; or I think.

Suddenly, light seeped into the darkened barracks as the door cracked open. Tarzan and Bull-balls entered, their whispering voices gave that much away.

"... you sure?" That was Tarzan. The light faded to a small sliver and then disappeared all together as they shut the door.

"I don't ask every chick I fuck their name... it's just too awkward," _That _was Bull-balls. "And not at all sexy..." He added.

"Gunny Larissa Grossman..." Tarzan hummed, "it has a ring to it,"

I snapped my eyes shut and listened. I wasn't one who promoted or was too fond of eavesdropping but this I wanted to hear.

"It does... but I don't remember any ODSTs!" Bull-balls pointed out. I could hear their bootsteps leading away to their cot on the opposite side of the barracks. Dimples hadn't come back yet. I assumed he was still wading out the water with the Sarge, or calming the waters.

Livly stirred in the cot above me.

"Neither do I!" I heard the cot creak as one of them put pressure onto it, lying down. "Now Sarge is pissed and we're going to get our asses kicked."

"Shut up," Livly's voice suddenly came, startling me. His voice was calm yet groggily.

The silence settled and I kept my eyes shut, holding my breath, waiting for one of the two fucktards to answer.

"Who the hell said that?" Tarzan demanded, his voice full of question. I guess they didn't expect someone to be in the room with them.

Livly didn't reply.

"Luckster, was that you?" I could hear a hint of agitation in Bull-balls's voice.

"No..." I answered bluntly, eyes still closed.

"Who-"

"The name's Lance Corporal Kent Calwell," Livly told him sternly.

"Are you-"

"No need, I all ready know who you are, impulsive dickhead,"

Oh, icy. Well, I didn't care what he said about or to Tarzan or Bull-balls because he had the right idea about them. They weren't my favorite marines to deal with. I only tolerate them, nothing more and I'm tolerate enough to share the high ground, from time to time. But it wasn't a relationship of any type, maybe companionship... _just maybe. _But even that seemed like a stretch.

"Well, somebody's gotta shitty mouth that likes to run," Bull-balls growled.

"It's better than what you do," Livly snapped.

"You're the newbie, ain't you?" Tarzan sounded absolutely bored.

"'Suppose so. You're the two cavemen I've heard about..."

"Oh, like you're a friggin' ass wipe,"

"Shut up," I cried, "we get it, Jesus Christ. Shut the hell up."

I was abruptly exhausted, as if exhaustion was sitting on the fence, realized that his ass was getting numb from the boards and decided to jump down. My eyelids were heavy and so was my head and all of these damn voices weren't a friggin' lullaby either.

"Beauty queen needs his sleep, aw," Tarzan cooed sarcastically.

"Dévissez..." The cot's springs protested as Livly shifted and apparently, that had shut up the two 'tards. At this point, I didn't care to figure out what Livly had just said. I just made a mental note to ask him tomorrow when I woke up.

I didn't sleep long, though it was oddly refreshing compared to most morning's I've woken up feeling like I was drunk the night before. This was a sign that something bad was going to happen. When something good happened to me, something bad would often come to others. Odd.

By oh-seven-hundred that morning, Livly and I stood side-to-side watching the Pelican drift noisily into the hangar. On board was living hell, a nightmare, the beginning of the end of who we now knew of Bull-balls. And possibly Tarzan as well.

As the Pelican settled onto her landing haunches, I got a second's peek into the bay. And a shiver ran down my spine. All I saw was four figures, three were consumed in a glossy shell and one no; a woman. My eyes didn't register the degree of her face but this, I assumed, must have been Gunny.

The Sarge was there, right at the end of the ramp, his arms were folded over his broad chest and flanking him were Tarzan and Bull-balls, who didn't at all look pleased.

The Pelican's engines powered down to a soft whine but soon silence filled the hangar in an instant. There weren't many soldiers present in the hangar that day and Livly and I were standing a safe distance away, but I still felt vulnerable. It was like everyone was holding their breath, expecting them to spring off the Pelican, guns blazing. But they didn't.

I heard their bootfalls before I saw them. They descended from the shadowy gloom of the Pelican, like emerging from a waterfall. They were terrifying and I felt as if their beaming gaze were directing on me, as if they had seen me as a speculator and I needed to be removed.

They weren't armed but they were still intimidating. I couldn't describe the sensation they give off but it ain't something worth cheering about. The closest I could get is: _We mean business and we sure as hell don't deal with crap. _

Sarge went right ahead and exchanged a few words with who I assumed was this alpha-male in this pack of wolves. After a moment, they took off their helmet, tucking them underneath their arms.

I could see Gunny's expression, she was fuming. Her face was beat red and it looked like she wanted to totally unleash her wrath on Bull-balls. She had her blazing sight on him. The alpha-male was a decent-looking man with obvious Hispanic heritage. But his face was rough, scarred and composed. Another was another man who looked typical, close-cropped hair and a solemn face. But they had another woman with them and she was very good-looking. Her armor didn't do much to her figure but she looked slim. She had short, blonde hair that brushed her jawline and soft features and a heart-shaped face. This chick didn't look like an ODST. She looked like an interior designer or that hot secretary.

Alpha-male and Sarge talked and Sarge led Gunny off to the side probably to converse with Bull-balls and Tarzan. The other ODSTs began into the hallway towards the barrack quarters. I hoped they weren't going to share our barrack room.

"We should go to the gym," Livly suggested, his gaze never wavering from the ODSTs as they disappeared into the hallway, replacing their helmets.

Damn, that chick was _hot _and a nice ass too.

I snapped out of it. _What the hell am I saying? Do you want to end up like Bull-balls? _No. _That's what I thought. Then keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. _

"Just a sec," I told him, watching the little circle that had formed between Sarge, Gunny, Bull-balls and Tarzan. I wanted to see Gunny unleash and I knew she would.

There was a heated conversation, I could tell. She was up in Bull-balls face, yelling something that I couldn't clearly make out half-way across the hangar. She was getting the attention of random by-standers though. Then she teetered back and gave him a hard slap across the face.

I could heard the loud _crack! _thus far away. I cringed and breathed, "That's gotta hurt,"

"Hell, he deserves it..." Livly added.

I silently agreed and we made our way to the gym. I hadn't gone to the gym in a while so, this would be somewhat refreshing. But I had the slightest feeling that I was going to see those ODSTs in the gym... or soon; just somehow pass them in the hallway.

The gym was basically a big room that the officers thought it was a waste of space so they decided to make it useful with turning it into a work-out gym. But, so far, it hadn't proved itself to be for the better... all it has done has gotten everyone cocky. Thanks to the gym, Bull-balls has gotten himself into deep shit. I didn't know why I was sympathizing Bull-balls, hell, he deserved it. It was time for all of his out of line behaviors to catch up with him. Primitive bastard.

Though, I was reluctant of showing up in the gym myself, fearing that something might happen. As of now, I sucked it up and dealt with it.

There weren't many people in the gym at these hours of the morning but by the time oh-nine-hundred hours rolled by, it would be swarming. I reckoned to Livly that we didn't stay long.

The work-out equipment was standard and didn't seem too complicated and high-tech. I decided to work out my biceps by pumping some iron and Livly did something similar, lying on his back while he raised a bar up and down, adding onto the weight.

"Shit," I just remember that I hadn't told Livly his nickname yet. "I forgot to tell you," Livly looked at me crooked, beside me, expectantly, "I got you a nickname. Save the Sarge some breath since he needs it right now..."

Livly smiled broadly, "Really?"

"Yeah. It's Livly,"

"Like the word lively?"

"Yeah, because you're so goddamn alive all the time. It's perfect and matches you the best," I told him, mirroring his grin.

The smile faded from Livly's lips, "You know," he said, "I wasn't always so cheery and alive..."

My eyebrows pulled together in confusion, "Seriously?"

"Yeah, I had bad, _terrible _depression. I took all of this medication and went to two kinds of therapy but it never seemed to work."

That seemed to knock the air from my lungs. Damn, I wouldn't have ever known...

"Why were you depressed?" I asked quietly.

"Remember that rig that exploded a couple years back?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, both my parents worked there and..." His voice trembled.

"Hey, hey... you don't have to tell me," I told him cautiously, "if it hurts too much," This was completely unexpected. I would have never known.

"No," He shook his head and breathed deeply, composing himself, "It's all right," He sniffed and then began: "My mom was pregnant at the time, she was due in a week or two with my baby sister. They were going to name her Charlotte Grace Calwell... It was a normal day, seven years ago. I came back from school and did my normal routine, sit down and do my homework so I could have the rest of the evening off. Our house wasn't far from the rig itself and soon, I heard a massive explosion. My ears were ringing for the next week. I went to investigate and found that the rig had exploded and was on fire. Naturally, I ran into the blaze, not caring about anything but my parents and my unborn sister. It was a stupid decision. I didn't know what I was thinking. I was fifteen, I didn't know what to think. All I knew was that I needed to get my parents to safety.

"Fire is damn _hot _by the way, damn... I got bad burns from the flames but I still went to find my parents. I mean, that place was entirely on fire. You couldn't walk two steps without risking you fall through a floor. I remembered where my parents worked, in the offices on the third floor..." Livly stopped and he was down sitting up, tears streaming down his cheeks but he still managed to talk steadily, "And when I got there... they were dead, burned, on fire, their skin peeling away like rubber. I could see my mother's skull has the flames burned away her face... and the flames had eaten at her stomach too, killing my unborn sister. My father's body wasn't too far away and from what I could see, my mother's and father's hand were molded together from the fire, holding their hands for the last time,"

I was sorry I asked. My arms were numb and my mouth had gone dry. I couldn't believe this. I knew that the rig had killed a lot of people but I didn't know that Livly... I instantly felt like a douche for asking.

"I'm so sorry, Livly," I whispered numbly.

He wiped his eyes self-consciously and shook his head, "It's all right... really, I shouldn't be pouring my heart out like that. It's not something... I usually... do,"

"No, no, it's fine really,"

Jesus, now we sounded like a bunch of old ladies having tea together in a quaint parlor.

"And that's why I was depressed for four years of my life. I lived with my Aunt Felicia in Manassas. She was a boring lady and I can't blame her. She was just as depressed as I was, loosing her sister so horribly... We didn't do much together, that is until my Aunt re-married after loosing her husband to cancer. His name was Jaime. He was a nice, porky guy but he was a hundred-percent French. And now..." He paused, smiled, and said with a perfect French accent, "Je peux bien parler français."

My mouth unhinged slowly and I stared at him, perplexed trying to figure out what he had just said. After a moment of blank stares, I said, "_What_?"

"I can speak French well," Livly said cheerfully. "Thanks to Jaime, I was able to get out of my depression by learning French. I can speak it fluently and I own his everything for it. I've never been happier. There was something about him that jogged me, made me really appreciate things. Sometimes I'm able to forget about that day when the rig exploded, but other days it haunts me. But, all in all, I'm pretty good,"

Livly was one _helluva _man. Just a few minutes ago, he was teary-eyed, telling about the tragic story of both his parent's and sister's untimely death and now he was telling me that he was "pretty good" and speaking French. One helluva dynamic person, I'll give him that much. And somehow, that's what I found out I liked about Livly. I felt like I've known him for _years _when it had only been a day.

"You can speak it fluently?" I asked, egging him on, deciding to change the subject while he was in a good mood.

"Perfectly. I got the accent and everything," He replied proudly and went back to pumping the bar, rhythmically.

I went back to working my biceps as well. "Can you say... 'Where's the bathroom, sir?'" Basic.

Livly didn't hesitate a beat, "Où est la salle de bains, monsieur?"

I laughed lightly, "What about, 'Screw off'?"

"Dévissez,"

"Hey, that's what you said," I realized Livly had spoken French when he was talking to Bull-balls and Tarzan earlier this morning. Ah, it made sense.

"Yeah, I did," Livly laughed as well, "it's easy to get away with saying anything you want in a different language,"

"Okay... say, "The bastard deserves everything he gets,"" I told him with a sly grin.

He knew who I was talking about and translated, "Le bâtard mérite tout ce qu'il obtient."

We laughed together but soon descended to silence. The only noise that was heard was the faint sound of creaky joints of machinery and murmuring voices and occasionally some hardy laughs.

But the sound of squeaky, heavy door opening stopped us in mid-pump. I looked yonder to the door and found two familiar faces that striked a fearful chord inside of myself. Two ODSTs.

_Dammit, I knew it! Just my luck, ain't it? _I thought, adrenaline pinging in my blood stream.

"Well, well... Regardez qui a décidé de se présenter pour certains à travailler." Livly said quietly to himself with a faint grin at the corner of his mouth.

I didn't care what Livly had just said. My eyes were glued on the two ODSTs standing in the threshold of the gym's doors. It was what I realized was alpha-male and that hot chick with the nice ass.

They didn't skip and beat and came in our general direction.

"Shit..." I sang underneath my breath.

"I should have guessed," Livly muttered, "Act cool,"

"I'll try to..."

Yeah, they had their eyes directly on us. They had probably spotted us spying on their entry. They weren't wearing their armor, thankfully and didn't appear to be armed. They were wearing dark grey, work-out fatigues. Maybe they just wanted to work out while the hopeless figured out their problems.

"Good morning, Sergeants," Livly called as they came within hearing range.

"And to you..." Alpha-male paused, allowing Livly to fill in the blank.

"Corporal Calwell and Private Lockwood," He threw his thumb at me. I didn't move.

"Pleasure, sirs," Alpha-male didn't seem too bad, despite his rough-looking face. He seemed pretty friendly. I decided not to let my guard down just yet. They had a reputation for being completely hot-heads.

"Likewise," Livly returned.

"Do you mind if Sergeant Jenkins and I join you?" He was talking about the hot chick beside him, _Sergeant _Jenkins. Being the man I was, I couldn't keep my eyes off of her breasts, they were round and well-developed.

I forced myself to keep my eyes on Alpha-male, who still hadn't told us his name. But Jenkins must have seen my wondering eyes and walked up to me while Alpha-male decided to hit the next bar-equipment beside Livly.

She put her hands on her hips, smirked and asked icily, "Are you done with that, big boy?"

I glanced at Livly who had all ready engaged a conversation with Alpha-male, for an answer but wasn't looking. I just stood and she sat down and began to work out, speedily.

I raised an eyebrow and sat down at the equipment beside her. I saw what she was doing, I didn't feel so tense anymore. I began at a pace I preferred but I still watched her unbelievably work her biceps at a fast tempo. I felt my ego deflate like a balloon.

"What's your name, Private, or are you just going to continue to stare at me?" Jenkins asked with a piercing glare. Damn, she was cold. Her voice was hard and acidic.

"Private First Class River Lockwood. My unit calls me Luckster," I told her, finding myself still numb from Livly's story, or was it from my wondering eyes?

She nodded.

"What's yours?" I asked, finding my voice a bit parched. I cleared my throat quietly.

"First Sergeant Trisha Jenkins..." She paused and scanned me before adding, "Luckster," She flashed me small grin but it faded from her face and she concentrated on her work out.

What the hell? Was she fucking hitting on me?

"You're lucky I don't slap you," Trisha suddenly said solidly.

"Why?" I demanded, offended.

"Gunny's my friend. A good friend at that. No thanks to your compelling cock, my friend's pregnant... And she's ain't too happy about it either,"

"I have _nothing _to do with that, honestly. I hate Bull-balls as much as you do," I told her honestly.

"Bull-balls?" She chuckled. "What, does everyone in your unit have a nickname? Because no crazy-assed bitch would name their kid 'Bull-balls',"

Damn, she had a sour tongue too. I was beginning to like her. She sounded like a chick that could well take care of herself and that's what I liked about a woman.

"Yeah, everyone does. The Sarge thinks we need one because it makes you sound more _official, _what ever the hell that means. Sarge is crazy,"

"Sounds like he is,"

"Not only that but he also counts heads after every evening, routine,"

"Counts heads?" She sounded truly interested, just like Livly.

"Yeah, he does a head count to make sure that everyone's here. He didn't do it yesterday since he's tangled in the drama between the Gunny and Bull-balls."

"That's interesting and probably the weirdest thing I've heard a Sarge do,"

"Yeah, and he has this riddle that he tells us all and says we'll never figure out,"

"What is it?"

"You can't have five and have two left over,"

Trisha looked at me in confusion, head cocked, "That doesn't make sense,"

"I know!" I cried, "that's the point I think, I don't know what he means and I think he's right about us never figuring it out,"

The conversation died down after that and we were left to silence again but not for long. Trisha broke the silence.

"You sound like a man I'd want to get to know," Trisha said as a matter-of-factly, there were beads of sweat running down her temples. "Want to get a drink with me later, at the Silver Side Bar, eastern New Alexandria?"

That struck me hard and I couldn't help but stop and stare at her for a moment. My mind was in turmoil and racing, questions streaming in and out, "Should I go? Should I go?" God, did I want to end up like Bull-balls? Or Tarzan?

No, I didn't but I knew I'd be more careful than those bastards.

Finally, I answered at last, "I would love too,"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

As far as officially, I've never been in any type of romantic affair. Maybe I had a girl friend in elementary school or maybe in early high school but none that really stuck. All the girls wanted was the looks, that's it. And I'm not too bad looking so I got lucky a few times. I was sporty in high school and smart, so I guess that's how I reeled in a few girls. But none of them stuck; it was for publicity.

There was something about Trisha. I just felt a connection with her and not only did I want to see her naked, she had that cold, mysterious personality that would probably be one helluva chick when she opened up.

But hey, _she _invited _me. _So this was like a free ticket but, knowing well that this could turn into Bull-balls/Tarzan's situation, I decided to keep sensible.

I hadn't gone to many bars in my life, I was always that really conscious guy in that didn't want to drink too much, fearing he'd wake up feeling like shit and he would even if he didn't have a hangover. It was strange so I was going to stay to three drinks at the most.

Silver Side Bar was a newest addition the mall they had just constructed in eastern New Alexandria. It was sleek looking place with bright neon lights that contrasted well with the dimly lit dance floor and bar. It had several different floors but they were all connected by one, wide plaza-like room.

Thankfully, it was within walking distance of the base, fortunately.

It was high time when Trisha and I arrived. People were pouring in like watering, eager for drinks and loud, techno music. Trisha had obviously been here before because she led me through the crowd of people easily, like she could have done it with her eyes closed.

She led me to a darkened portion of the bar, on the ground floor that had a partially crowded bar and bartender serving his customers. The sound system the bar had installed was very technologically enhanced because once you reach about a fifty meter distance away, the music faded to not-so-ear-bleedingly-loud. It was pleasant I had to admit.

Trisha and I sat ourselves at the bar and she called the bartender, "Ralph,"

The bartender, a primly-dressed man with a porky belly, stepped up to her hands on the counter, ready to prepare an order. He seemed to recognize her.

"Why, it's Miss Jenkins, how are you," He glanced at me before turning completely, "And I see you have a little friend here," He offered a hand for shaking, "'Name's Ralph, friend of Miss Jenkins for just about a year now,"

"Yes," Trisha affirmed.

"I'm Private Lockwood," I introduced subtly, forcing myself to smile.

"Nice to meet you, Private," Ralph said vivaciously, "now, what can I get you?"

"Usual," Trisha said, tapping her nails onto the counter.

Ralph nodded and looked at me expectantly.

I just ordered any given beer, I'm not a picky drinker.

As Ralph complied to our orders and went off to prepare them, Trisha turned to me and said with a slight smile, "So, tell me about yourself,"

I took a moment before I could really answer that question. It was a hard subject to start, because, _where _do you want me to begin and _what _do you want to know? "Well, what do you want to know?"

"I don't know, your family, for starters,"

"I was born on Beta Gabriel. That's where dad works. He's an entrepreneur,"

"Ooh, so you're one of those wealthy family's that got the luxury of moving there?"

I laughed, "Yeah, I guess,"

"Oh, oh, I see. I heard about them. I've lived on Reach my entire life. I have five brothers, older brothers,"

That was shocking, my eyes widened and I stared at her, "Damn, really?"

"Oh, hell, it was just great. I learned a lot of things from them including how to deal with my own problems instead of pouring my heart out to my friends who might stab me in the back later in life,"

I nodded, a bit speechless, "That's good," I said it as though it was almost a question.

"Yeah, it is. It's better than being a prissy bitch or slut," She paused as Ralph delivered our drinks and went to serve someone else. "Between you and me, Gunny was a bit of a slut anyway, yeah, she is my friend, but still a slut to me,"

"Really?"

"Yeah, she loved to hit on any given man. She was bound to get pregnant sooner or later. I don't know why I'm such a bitch about it," Trisha sounded apologetic.

"It's all right," I replied, hoping she meant it as an apology of some sort.

An awkward silence descended between us and I sheepishly sipped at my beer. She took a full swing from her drink; a stout glass containing a bright blue liquid.

"What else can you tell me about you?" Trisha persisted. Damn, she was determined. She was really interested, wasn't she? "Why'd you want to be a marine, huh, that's a good starter,"

"I grew up hearing about the war and I wanted to do something about it. I didn't have much of a future outside of professional sports so, I thought being in the UNSC was the best way to take. I wanted to serve our colonies,"

Trisha's eyes brightened, "You played sports?"

I smiled. "Sometimes. I played whatever sport was in season in high school. My dad told me I should be dynamic and learn to do different things because if I didn't learn how to play different sports, I wouldn't be able to learn other skills in life that was thrown at me,"

"Philosophical," Trisha commented.

"Yeah, my dad was a man of many words. Very outspoken,"

She smiled and said gingerly, "I use to be a cheerleader in high school,"

I gawked at her in shock, "Really?"

She laughed, "Hell yeah, captain of the team. I was always at the top of the pyramid. The coaches loved me and I did scope some hits on some of the top players on the teams,"

"_Wow,_" I said, clearly frazzled, "You never came on to me as a girl who was a _cheerleader_,"

Trisha laughed again, "My mom thought I would follow her image. She wanted to have girls but instead got five boys. They were about to give up but they had me. Lucky me?"

"I guess," And we both laughed.

Shit, I haven't felt so good in a while. I forgot what it felt like to truly laugh. Damn, that cold. I can't believe I've forgotten what that feels like. Trisha is something else and something about her called to me.

"What about you?" I asked, sipping at my second beer more frequently now. "Why'd you want to be a marine?"

"Because I wanted to show all those pussies in high school that I wasn't some cherry-lipstick Barbie that couldn't do worth a shit," Trisha was on her third drink by now.

"Well, I think you've proven your point. ODSTs are bad ass," That one slipped but not like I could do anything. It was true.

Trisha nodded in agreement and then added, "Also, my mom wanted me to be a model. A damn model. Hell, she said I had the looks for it but I didn't have the mentality for it. Models aren't any good. They're just dolls being dressed up and showing off clothes they would never wear themselves. My mom wanted me to, 'Show off the feminine side of the Jenkins,'" She laughed hard, "Tough shit. And look where I am now,"

I nodded and chuckled myself. She had a good point. Damn, I was liking her a lot.

"What'd your mom do for a living?" Trisha suddenly inquired.

"She was a gardener," I answered simply and almost reluctantly.

"A gardener?" She looked at me lamely.

I nodded. "And she was damn good at it too. She manicured our entire house with flowers and shit. She could tell you any plant that she passed by what it was and when it was best to plant it. Everyone relied on her to do their garden work. She took great pride in her flowers,"

Trisha locked eyes with me, her silver eyes alluring, and she said smoothly, "I would love to meet her one day,"

I nodded, muted and nearly jumped out of my skin when her soft hand met my thigh. She kept eye contact with me and she leaned closer. Being as intoxicated as I was at the moment on five beers or so, I didn't know what I was going to do. Her lips met mine for a moment before she pulled back and instantly apologized repeatedly, "I'm sorry. That wasn't – I shouldn't have..."

I pulled back myself, a bit dazed. "It's all right," I replied.

She turned her head, hiding her face with her hand.

"I'm sorry," I told her.

"No, it's fine," She snapped.

Dammit, I'm gonna end up like Bull-ball's at this rate. Get a grip of yourself, Luckster. Do you _want _to end up like Bull-balls? Shit, we've all ready had this conversation. Stop talking to yourself.

That's when my comlink buzzed in my pocket. Automatically, I twisted it into my ear and activated it.

Sarge's voice blasted on high volume, shouting, "_Private! If you don't get your damned, sorry ass back to base RIGHT NOW, I will dig your grave with your skull and sign it with your blood: THE BASTARD WHO DISOBEYED HIS FUCKING OFFICER, do I make myself clear?_"

Fuck. What had the Sarge so razzed?

Trisha stared at me incredulously, hearing his rant from her seat.

The Sarge was never a man I imagined as one to loose his head or composure during crunch time but something was definitely wrong. But what the hell was it?

"Crystal clear, Sarge," I replied as calmly as I could manage and I forced myself to ask, "What's the rush?"

"_Reach is under attack you bastard, get back to base NOW!_"

The line disconnected abruptly and Trisha and I exchanged stricken expressions before darting out of bar. Our private night was far behind us.


	5. Chapter 5

_Review/Feedback would be appreciated. :) _

**Chapter Five**

"All right men! Gather your barring and pull up your panties, we're going to war!" Sarge's loud, authoritative voice seemed to stand out in the bustling hangar. He was standing at a weapon's cache passing out DMRs and MA37s. Our unit had gathered around in a semi-circle around the Sarge as he passed around weapons.

We were all ready in our standard reg battle armor and our heads encased in helmets, our comlinks chattering in our ears, which made me strain to pay attention to the Sarge. The chatter wasn't good, it was all chaos.

I was standing next to Livly, feeling a bit intoxicated and Livly had made a point to ask where I'd gone to. I told him, I didn't care, I wasn't ashamed of it. He just smiled and gave me a pat on the back.

"But sir," Bull-balls piped, his cheek still ruddy from Gunny's monstrous slap. "we're all ready at war,"

"Shut up, numb-nuts, we are. Word just got around that Reach is under attack and two Covenant corvettes have been sighted and are dispatching some parties and this is where we make our stand, marines!" Sarge explained, "It's all very simple, protect the city and the civvies, got it?"

"Yes sir," We chorused a bit dully.

We weren't all high and excited about this, in fact, I was more troubled than anything. I didn't think the Covenant could penetrate Reach... I was wrong. But then, I remembered that some where in those logs, I wrote that it would be bad luck if Reach were under attack. Dammit, I jinxed myself. Great going, Luckster.

The other units stationed at this base were filing out of the hangar's wide door and into the city. The base was built near a street that was entirely empty. The hangar was nearly silent when Sarge had us filing out the door.

My MA37 felt extremely heavy in my hands and my palms began to sweat. Like I've said, I haven't been in many firearms engagements and this one, if I could recall, was my third. I hadn't done much fighting in my life but this battle, I knew was going to be historical. That didn't settle well inside of me, it sat like a rock in my stomach.

Livly was trotting next to me, holding a DMR and he didn't look at all nervous. I bet you I sure as hell did. The silence that cloaked the city was unsettling and unnatural. I've never heard a city so... _silent. _No one spoke and the only sound that could be heard was our boots scuffing the cement beneath us and soon, the low chatter of MA37s could be heard in the distance.

We exited the street and entered a wide plaza in the midst of a firefight. I didn't get to note much of the surrounding because the Sarge was ordering us to go trigger happy. Bull-balls and Tarzan charged forward to find cover. Sarge and Dimples, wielding SRS99s, went to find advantageous position, which left Livly and I as back-up shooters. I didn't have a problem with that.

Livly and I scurried forward to join Bull-balls and Tarzan to provide suppressive fire, while their guns blazed. The grunts, stout and annoying as hell, returned fire as best they could with their stubby pistols and horrible aim. They were only cannon fodders for the more effective and useful troops, the Brutes.

This was my first time to see Brutes in action and it was _staggering. _I could feel the fear choking in my throat. In the distance, the alien heaved a poor marine, whose rifle was still blazing, up above his head by the torso and threw him aside like he were a toy. The other marines fired, spraying the Brute's purple blood into an arc but it still came, ferociously, swatting large crates aside like they were nothing.

I kept my aim on the Grunts, spraying their neon blood onto the plaza while Bull-balls and Tarzan took out the Brutes that were standing behind the advance of Grunts, firing their weapons.

I could feel the plasma zinging close to my face, as it slashed through the air, heating the molecules.

Damn, it was like a bizarre fire works shows. Globs of deadly hot plasma in an array of colors showered onto our position, melting our cover.

Finally, four synchronized sniper rounds pierced the air, taking down the pair of Brutes, suppressing us with fire. Undoubtedly , they were from Sarge and Dimples.

The Grunts shrieked and raced for cover but Livly and I showered them with a hail of bullets. The plaza returned to silence, the gun shots ringing in my ears. I forgot how damned loud those rifles were. I slipped in a pair of ear plugs I luckily found in my belt as the Sarge ordered us to regroup.

"Holland's ordering all UNSC personnel to reinforce Traxus Tower, they're trying to evacuate the civvies before the Covies decide to glass the whole goddamn city. We're going to team up with Sergeant Ortiz's unit and go together. Now, I know we have a bit of a miscommunication with his unit but _this _is war. Nothing is fair in war so, we're meeting his unit at Traxus Tower. Which is right through those buildings," He gestured to a collection of skyscrapers to the north. "Let's scram before the Covies coming again wanting a rematch,"

Sarge ordered Dimples to take point as we advanced for the collection of skyscrapers. I was surprised that Sarge hadn't ordered Bull-balls on point – hmm, I wondered what happened with their little discussion?

Intoxication soon dissipated and was replaced by fear. New Alexandria was _silent _– so goddamn silent and not a good silence their. The rest of the marines that were taking on that Brute in close combat didn't make it and neither did the Brute.

The door to the first building was half-way opened and the control console was shattered. We filed in and found that the light was terrible. We activated our flashlights and moved in, cautiously.

The room we entered looked to be the lobby of some business corporation It's logo had been displayed in gold lettering on the chrome walls but it was now lying on the floor, knocked from its bolts. Two hallways branched off from this room so Sarge spilt us up, he, Bull-balls and Tarzan took the right and Dimples, Livly, and I took the left.

We plodded down the hallway in a triangular formation, stepping over wreckage. The hallway was littered with empty shells, bodies, and pieces of plaster from the walls. The walls were scarred with burn streaks and blackened by grenades. It was silent and the lights swaying above us were, bared shattered remains of the bulbs.

The battle had passed through here all ready; we missed it. And I was glad we did.

Shards of glass and debris crunched underneath our boots. An eerie feeling filled me and a shiver poured down my back. Something was going to jump out from the upcoming doorways, I know it. My gut told me so.

We peered into the empty doorways, as we passed and found they were in worse shape than the hallway was. Several civilian casualties.

Sarge's voice crackled over the com in my ear, causing me to jump. "_What do you have, Dimples_?"

"Nothing, sir, it's empty," Dimples replied, his voice a bit shaky.

"_Keep your eyes sharp, we're just passin' through. Nothing else. Don't go up or down, just straight through..."_

"Copy, we're..."

Gunfire from the opposite link stopped Dimple's cold and you could hear the muffled shots from where we stood. We halted and listened. The shots were followed by a high-pitched shriek and an explosion. I recognized that. Plasma grenade.

"_Hot damn! To your right!" _Gunfire. Another scream and explosion. "_We're dealin' with kamikaze Grunts, fuck! Keep your eyes sharp! FUCK!" _More gunfire was heard before the line was disconnected.

Dimples glanced back at us and then Livly to me. Sweat was dripping down my nape. Kamikaze Grunts? What in fucking hell did _that _mean?

"Kamikaze Grunts?" I whispered, questioningly, hoping someone would answer.

Livly did. "Grunts are all ready cannon fodders and over-all useless so, they stick two plasma grenades on their hand and run at you. It isn't a valiant way to die, I'll give them that much,"

I wondered how Livly knew this. Something seemed a bit... off. How could he be a newbie but know more about the Covenant that I did? Something ain't right. I made a mental note to figure it out later.

As we were coming up to the end of the hallway, which would have expanded into another large lobby-like room when a Grunt suddenly appeared in the doorway. We froze instantly and shouldered our weapons. The Grunt, without hesitation, ignited two plasma grenades both in his hands and charged at us, screaming terribly.

Our rifles blazed and the Grunt toppled over, shredded by bullets and the grenades propelled forward. I dived into an empty doorway and roughly landed on my stomach. The grenades exploded and then the hallway returned to silence.

I regained my footing and peeked out of the doorway. The hallway was empty, minus the Grunt's bloodied corpse and blackened impact on the floor.

"Dimples?" I whispered loudly, "Livly?"

There wasn't an answer. A sense of dread prickled through me and I almost felt I couldn't breath properly. "Livly?" I tried again.

"Damn!" Livly's low voice emitted from the darkened doorway across from mine. His head appeared from the darkness like a crazy cartoon and his head whipped back and forth as he scanned the hallway. "Sarge wasn't kidding," He smiled weakly.

I almost smiled myself. Dimples appeared in the doorway next to him.

Twittering voices came from the same place the Grunt had appeared from. We ducked back into our separate doorways, guns ready as a trio of Grunts teetered down the hallway, chittering to each other. I thought I recognized English, but it wasn't easy to understand. Their voices were like a six year old being strangled.

They spotted the Grunt's corpse and gasped as one, twittering louder to each other, angrily. They proceeded forward.

As they passed Dimples doorway, tittering to each other, we knew what we were going to do. I fingered the knife holster at my knife and pulled it slowly, slinging my rifle over my shoulder.

Dimples and Livly snatched their grunts and pulled them into darkness. I did the same. I gripped its shoulder, pulling it towards me and wrapped my arms around its neck. It gasped but I jammed my knife into the side of its throat. It gurgled loudly and I shushed it, repeatedly, fall to my knees as I did so. It tugged at my arm but soon the Grunt went limp in my arms. I let the body collapsed to the ground as I released hold of it. It fell onto its face, twitching and seeping neon blue blood. I yanked my knife from its neck and realized that my hands were shaking.

Dimples, Livly and I emerged from our doorways and continued down the hallway to regroup with Sarge. We were lucky that we didn't have to deal with more than one kamikaze. Well, three more potential kamikazes.

We exited the hallway and entered another lobby that looked awfully similar to the lobby we had entered initially. We only had to wait a moment before only Bull-balls and Sarge came trudging out. My stomach knotted.

"Where's Tarzan?" I asked quietly.

Sarge stood there a moment, in front of me, staring me in the eyes before he raised his hand, a dog tag dangling between his fingers. I swallowed, feeling a lump forming in my throat as it dawned to me.

"And you're lucky I got _this _much back," Sarge remarked and bumped past me.

Bull-balls followed, ashen and listless.

"Damn Covenant bastards..." Sarge mumbled to himself. Livly and Dimples had their heads bowed slightly.

Tarzan hadn't made it.

"Well, we're not gonna get anywhere if we're treading in our own blood, will we? Let's _go_ to that RV point, move!" Sarge beckoned us to follow and we did. I was the last to fall in line, a bit numb.

I was amazed about how Sarge could just shake off something like that. Tarzan had been in his unit a while and it was... alarming. He looked like it was nothing, just a particle of dust on his shoulder. I marveled at him and wondered how many deaths he'd seen in his life.


End file.
